


A Brighter Future

by hellomiho



Category: Bloodbound (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:29:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21726046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellomiho/pseuds/hellomiho
Summary: Kamilah and co. win the war against Gaius but at great personal cost.Fifty years have passed since their pyrrhic victory when a stranger, looking exactly like the woman they lost, enters their lives.
Relationships: Kamilah Sayeed/Main Character (Bloodbound)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

_Prologue:_

“I’ve spent the last hundred years denying who I really am, pretending to be someone I’m not, but I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to. 

“I love the woman I am when I’m with you. There is no greater feeling than the power that rushes through my veins when I’m by your side, killing all those who dare oppose us. Why should I protect humans when I am _superior_ , when they should be begging me to feed from them?”

Kamilah stared resolutely at Gaius at the end of her impassioned declaration. He looked back at her imperiously from his throne, Priya draped over his side like a purring cat. 

“And the girl?” Gaius asked without a hint of emotion.

Priya pouted, wrapping her arms around his neck and speaking intimately into his ear, “She wouldn’t even let me play with her precious little human.”

Kamilah ignored the woman, focusing solely on the man she had once thought she’d loved, “I thought if I pretended to love a mortal, I could fool myself into thinking I really loved humans. It was all an act of course, but still, I never did like sharing.” 

Gaius remained silent, his eyes calculating as he tried to see into her, tried to see any signs that she was lying to him. But he would be unsuccessful. She knew Gaius and his pride was his greatest vulnerability. Kamilah would pretend to be the woman who had blindly followed his every word, and he would see only that. The woman who loved him. He would never believe that Kamilah’s heart lay with an inconsequential mortal, even if she was the Bloodkeeper. 

At last, Gaius rose from his throne, causing the woman at his side to frantically catch her balance before settling back onto the armrest. 

“I knew you would return to me. We are inevitable,” Gaius proclaimed as he walked down the steps to where Kamilah stood. 

Priya clambered down to join them, her brows furrowed in disbelief, “Excuse me?! You can’t seriously believe she‘s telling the truth?! She’s just trying to protect her human loving friends and her dirty human whore!”

Gaius waved at her dismissively, “I tire of you.” 

As a fuming Priya marched out of the room, her heels clicking angrily on the tiled floors, Gaius embraced Kamilah.

“It’s been so long, my Queen.” 

The title felt nearly sinister in the way he whispered it to her, but Kamilah forced herself to relax into his arms before pulling back with the corners of her lip upturned into a coy smile. 

“My King.”

* * *

The next time Kamilah saw everyone, they were on opposite sides of the battlefield. 

As if she was in one of the TV shows she liked to reference so much, Lily’s jaw dropped upon seeing her presence at Gaius’s side. Jax’s sword was pointed directly at her, his face contorted in fury while Adrian looked at her with a crushing expression of betrayal. 

But she looked towards Laia, Laia, who had never been good at hiding her feelings. 

There was an infinite sadness on Laia’s face and somehow, it made Kamilah feel small despite the over two thousand years she had on her. She’d expected anger, betrayal, or hatred, but this sadness almost made her cave in before she caught herself.

Jax spat at her, “I can’t believe you’d go back to him. People really don’t change, do they.”

“I guess they don’t, mutt,” Kamilah snapped back at him, twirling her daggers with a hungry look. At Gaius’s nod, she and all of their forces charged and were instantaneously met with all of Adrian’s forces. 

The battle had begun.

* * *

Hours had passed and Kamilah’s hair had turned black from the ashes of all of the vampires she’d killed. By herself, she was a terrifying force of nature, but with Gaius at her side, they were unstoppable.

He let out a laugh as he carved through another man and Kamilah knew from experience that this was but a game to Gaius. He was exhilarated when he killed, and his excitement had once been infectious. 

But now she forced herself to smirk back at him, as if she wasn’t killing vampires she knew, vampires who were part of Adrian’s clan, _her_ clan. 

Adrian, Jax, and Lily were all busy fighting against Gaius’s Ferals and Kamilah was grateful for this small mercy, that they didn’t have to face each other in battle. Priya had disappeared a long time ago; she hated getting her hands dirty unless it was from some hedonistic act that left her satisfied and her lover dead. 

And Laia was…

Kamilah couldn’t find her anywhere. Her head swivelled around in a quick scan of the room but there was no sign of the mortal woman amidst the fray of fighting vampires. She struggled to keep her panic from showing; Laia was probably in a safe place. Adrian wouldn’t let her come to harm.

And then Gaius suddenly burst into a series of fluid actions that cleared a thirty feet radius around them, a flurry of ashes settling onto the floor. 

Their opponents backed off, wary of drawing close to them after this ruthless display, and Kamilah looked at him questioningly when suddenly she saw Laia.

Priya was clad in her immaculate, white dress that plunged down to her navel, but more importantly, she was dragging a chained Laia behind her. 

Laia looked worse for the wear, her clothes sooty and tattered at the edges, unable to do anything but struggle futilely against her chains. But her eyes were fierce with hatred and she was otherwise unharmed. 

Priya confidently strutted towards them, revelling in the attention and the fact that no one dared attack her. She yanked at Laia’s chain, causing her to fall over onto the ground and Kamilah’s blood boiled at the sight. It took every bit of self control she had to not show any signs of her fury. 

“What is the meaning of this, my King?” she asked tightly.

Gaius gave her an easy smirk, “I have to admit, I haven’t quite forgiven you for your role in my captivity. But if you killed this human, it would put all of my misgivings to rest.” 

Her daggers clutched tightly in her hands, Kamilah walked carefully over to Laia, feeling the weight of every step. Laia seemed unaware of what had happened, spitting on Priya with a nasty grin.

Priya grimaced but otherwise contained herself in an uncharacteristic show of restraint, keeping her keen eyes on Kamilah’s every move.

And then she was face to face with Laia, who finally looked up at her. There was no fury or hatred on her face, and although there was fear, it was outweighed by the overwhelming amount of trust in her luminous eyes.

There was no way they could speak to each other, not with the eyes on them, but Laia simply nodded and closed her eyes, ready for whatever Kamilah was going to do.

And Kamilah broke at this display of faith, that Laia would trust her to the point of facing her death…

As she had planned to since the moment she’d seen Laia come in, Kamilah ceremoniously raises her daggers before turning and slashing viciously at Priya. 

There was no time for any feelings of satisfaction, even though she had finally ended the life of a woman she’d wanted to kill for over a century, and Kamilah immediately turned around, ready to face Gaius head on. 

But then she froze as she saw Laia dashing in front of her, her arms outspread. Gaius’s sword fell in a silver arc until it burst into Laia’s chest, the silver point poking out from her back before it was withdrawn in one cruel move. Kamilah’s daggers fell helplessly to her side as Laia toppled over onto the ground. 

Bright scarlet bloomed around and on Laia, a seemingly unending flow of blood streaming out of her. Kamilah immediately dropped to her knees, turning the woman’s body to her and cradling it in her arms as she furiously shook her head in denial

“You brave, trusting fool. Why would you sacrifice yourself for me?” Kamilah’s voice broke on the last word as she gazed upon the suddenly pale face of the woman she loved.

Blood seeped out of her mouth and her chest wracked with spasms, but Laia fought to gasp out, “I couldn’t let you die… I never stopped believing in you.”

Her words were slowing down now and Kamilah wasted no more time before her fangs were bared and a shower of blood was spraying from her freshly cut wrist.

Laia gurgled, “I love you.” 

And then Kamilah placed her wrist into Laia’s already bloody mouth. 

When at last Kamilah gingerly placed Laia on the floor and rose, she was drenched in the blood of both Laia and herself. Gaius eyed her with disgust, unable to believe Kamilah would be so consumed with grief over a _mortal_ , and opened his mouth to say as much.

But Kamilah let out a fearsome roar and charged straight at him.

* * *

It had taken too long a time and too high a cost, but the war had finally ended. Gaius was completely and utterly dead and no amount of the First’s blood would be enough to revive him. The world was finally safe from his clutches.

But there was no time to celebrate.

Kamilah raced through the thick fall of ashes, her mind focused solely on the woman she had left behind. Her body was still where Kamilah had placed it, and she pushed past the people surrounding Laia, barely registering their presence.

She gathered Laia’s body into her arms only to pause at the cold touch of her skin.

No. This couldn’t be true. She had still been alive when Kamilah had fed her her blood. No. This wasn’t possible. It made no sense. 

She rose, Laia’s body safely in her arms, and finally saw the expressions on everyone’s faces. Jax was pointedly looking away, a tick in his jaw betraying how tightly his teeth were clenched. Lily was openly sobbing, her eyes blotchy behind her glasses. 

Adrian laid his hand on Kamilah’s shoulder but Kamilah rejected the pain and understanding in his eyes. She shrugged it off and spoke urgently, “We have to put her in a dark space. Now.”

Adrian merely shook his head, “It was too late.”

“She’s gone.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was remarkable, Kamilah mused as she walked down the streets of London, how everything could at once stay the same and be different. 

She’d last stepped foot on this island over three hundred years ago, before she’d made the move to America, and while technological advancements had replaced the candlelit lamps with lightbulbs, it was still the same, bustling city she had once known. The New York Massacre of fifty years ago hadn’t even touched this island and their people walked blissfully unaware of the existence of the supernatural.

Her thoughts returned back to her home, New York City. Despite Gaius’s forces ravaging the city and forcing it into a state of evacuation, once Gaius had died, everything had returned to normal. Coming from a small port city, Grant Emerson had successfully burst on the scene, running for senator on the campaign of New York’s restoration and improvement. Adrian had been all too happy to donate to his cause upon sitting down with the man and New York had returned to its glittering city of edifices once more. 

The massacre had been explained away by a gas leak, carbon monoxide leaking into the streets and wreaking havoc on people’s minds until they grew crazy and attacked anyone around them. There had been scientists researching the traces of gas they found, searching for the compound that had caused such mania but even their numbers had dwindled until the massacre was just a footnote in New York’s illustrious history. 

It was amazing how resilient and ignorant mortals were willing to be in order to make everything fit into a neat narrative but then she had seen this happen all too many times before. 

And yet, even with their knowledge of the true events, vampire society had also returned to normal, the Council reforming to continue its all-encompassing rule over New York. Their numbers had been severely diminished in the battles but vampires were not a species that would easily allow itself to become extinct. 

All in all, it seemed everything had returned to normal upon Gaius’s death.

But Kamilah knew better.

She had lost the trust of her friends the moment she’d pretended to join Gaius again and it would take centuries before they trusted her again. Jax was outright hostile to her still, while Lily was uncharacteristically careful around her. Even Adrian, who had said he’d understood her actions, was distant with her, reminding her of the times when they’d first known each other. 

And Laia…

Something had broken in her the moment she’d seen the light disappear from Laia’s eyes, when she’d felt the life pour out of Laia’s body and spill all over the ground.

She had lost not only thousands of years of her life to Gaius, but the only person who mattered. There had been others, of course, whom Kamilah had loved but Laia. Laia had been the only woman to break past her defences and make her feel as if she were living again. 

Kamilah had done despicable things and committed countless atrocities that she had thought put her past the point of redemption. She’d wondered whether death would ever come for her, if her past acts would eventually catch up with her, and she’d resigned herself to a bleak eternity of guilt and shame.

But Laia had made her want to live. Laia had made her see that even vampires were capable of change and she’d made Kamilah want to be better not only for Laia, but for herself. She’d made her see that even despite her two thousand years on this Earth, there were still things unknown to her, experiences that she’d never had. And she had wanted to share all of these things with Laia. 

They just… hadn’t had enough time.

And now Kamilah was alone, and she hadn’t expected it to hurt this much. For her to so keenly feel the absence of the woman who should have been by her side. Fifty years had passed but the pain was still fresh and ever accumulating. She hadn’t been able to stop seeing Laia everywhere she looked, smelling Laia’s scent, hearing her laughter, the first ten years, but even now, sometimes she swore she could smell the faint scent of strawberries and violet.

Kamilah froze. 

That wasn’t in her imagination. She could smell the sweet scent wafting towards her from an unknown source and even though she knew it was impossible, even though she’d chased the scent down so many times only to realise it had been in her head, Kamilah began running.

All thoughts of her impending business meeting vanished, her mind consumed by that light aroma as she chased it down with her honed instincts. 

And there.

Kamilah felt the breathe escape from her in one fell gasp as she stared at the woman standing just down the street from her. Her ombre honey blonde hair was gone, replaced with warm chestnut tresses with the slightest tint of auburn, but her eyes were the same. The slanted arch of her eyebrows, the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, the dimple in her cheek. They were all the same.

As if she hadn’t died fifty years ago, Laia was standing in front of her. 

* * *

Ever since she’d woken up from the accident, Anya had felt a restlessness inside of her. 

The doctors had told her that she was lucky to be alive, that the amnesia, while uncommon, was something that happened in some patients and her memories were just as likely to return as they were to not.

They never returned. And although she had baulked at the thought of living a life where the first 18 years of her life were completely blank, she had learned to move on. 

The first few months had been the roughest and it had only been through the support of Sera, that Anya had finally learned to leave the past behind. The woman had been with her from the very moment she’d woken up, and even though Anya couldn’t remember anything about her, Sera had been an infinite source of comfort and knowledge about who she was.

But still, even as Anya learned that her parents had died when she was a child, that she had been visiting Sera in Paris before she entered university back in London, that she had always wanted to become a museum curator, even as she slowly pieced together who Anya Altomare was… she felt a restlessness in her. 

She didn’t feel whole; it was as if there was something absolutely vital missing in her, an empty hole in her heart that couldn’t seem to be fixed no matter what she did. It had taken a year for her to stop bursting into tears whenever she smelled the scent of lavender and Sera hadn’t been able to provide her an explanation. 

But she had needed to move on and so Anya had gone to university for four years, immersing herself in her studies and making friends even as she felt like she was only masquerading as Anya Altomare and that there was somewhere else she desperately needed to be. 

This feeling hadn’t disappeared even after she’d graduated and Anya had spent a year in an archaeological dig, excavating the ruins of a newly unearthed fortress in the deserts of Egypt, as if she would also be able to discover who she was. 

Yet, even that had failed and still feeling like only a shell of a person, Anya was back in London, looking for jobs as a museum curator. Her friends had decided they needed to celebrate her return to London at their favourite bar, but the nonstop stream of chatter quickly wore away at her. 

That was why Anya was outside right now, reflecting about the half-life she was living and morosely wondering if she’d ever feel whole. Anya sighed and turned to go back inside when she suddenly made eye contact with a woman at the end of the street. 

It was dark but there was no mistaking that this was the most beautiful woman Anya had ever seen and the sight made her heart feel like it would swallow her whole. Her eyes were a bottomless brown that Anya could have drowned herself in, her face framed by gleaming sheets of hair that Anya longed to run her fingers through. 

Her every feature seemed perfect as if they had been lovingly chiseled by a sculptor, but there was something devastatingly tragic about her, as if there was a wasteland of heartbreak underneath her composed exterior. Anya instinctively stepped towards her, feeling a need to comfort the woman, to embrace the woman, to caress her cheek when suddenly-

“ANYA!” 

Her friends called out to her in the bar, and by the time Anya looked back towards the woman, the street was empty as if she had never been there. Only the faint smell of lavender lingered behind and shaking the strange wistfulness that had overcome her, Anya went back into the bar. 

* * *

_(1 day later)_

Kamilah furiously tore at the ground with a shovel, calluses forming and bursting open on her hands only to instantly heal over. She was a woman with a single-minded determination that had caused her to cancel all of her London appointments and fly straight back to New York, going immediately from the jet to the cemetery she was now in. 

There was no way Laia was alive. She’d seen the life leave her body, she’d felt the cold, heartless corpse against her arms, she’d Turned Laia too late. It was impossible. 

Her white silk blouse turned brown from the dirt but she paid no attention to it, focusing solely on the coffin that was slowly being revealed with each throw of dirt. At last, she threw her shovel to the side in frustration and lifted the lid using sheer force only to unceremoniously drop it and slump over in shock.

It was empty.

* * *

_(5 days later)_

Anya cupped a mug of coffee, sipping on it slowly as she checked her email. She was currently staying at a friend’s after having returned from Egypt but she needed to find a job and an apartment soon. She couldn’t stand being a freeloader for long. 

She had sent her resume out to a variety of museums focusing particularly on ones that had ancient Egyptian exhibits (her specialty) but it seemed there just weren’t many museums looking for new curators. Sighing in frustration, she quickly refreshed her inbox only for her thumb to freeze over the new email that had appeared. 

Anya immediately pressed on it, her eyes rapidly skimming the letter that had arrived as if she were afraid it would disappear. 

“Dear Ms. Altomare… highly recommended by Professor Cunningham… curator for a private collection of Ancient Egyptian artefacts… full benefits and a fully furnished apartment in the company building…”

She let out a scream of delight, jumping up and down as she clutched her phone to her chest. This had to be a dream. There was no way she could get her dream job in her dream field with a staggeringly high compensation rate. Suddenly furrowing her brows in worry, Anya rechecked the email, looking at the signature.

“Sincerely, Gabriel Sapienti, Assistant to Kamilah Sayeed, CEO of Ahmanet Financial.”

A quick search online revealed that Ahmanet Financial wasn’t only reputable, it was _the_ company for all things finance-related and it was in the heart of New York. While she’d always wanted to go to the city across the oceans, Sera had always advised her against it, citing the violent, busy, and dirty nature of the streets. 

Anya sighed at this; if Sera were here, she’d definitely warn Anya away from this job. She could practically hear her friend’s voice in her head talking about how things that seemed too good to be true were exactly that: too good to be true. But everything seemed to check out and Anya wasn’t going to let go of this perfect opportunity. 

With a tremulous heart and a resolve to tell Sera later, Anya emailed back the assistant. 

She was going to New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I forgot to update. 
> 
> Bonus points to anyone who knows where I got Anya’s full name from.


	3. Chapter 3

“Kamilah’s expecting you. Don’t worry. She liked you enough to offer you a job without so much as an interview and she’s a woman of her word. She’ll just want to make sure you’re as impressive as your resume says you are,” Gabriel said reassuringly before he left and Anya took a moment to compose herself before she pushed the door and stepped into the office.

Normally, Anya would have been drawn to the myriad of seemingly authentic Egyptian artefacts and weapons decorating the room: the curved khopesh of the New Kingdom sitting innocently on a shelf next to a golden mask of Bast, the ornate fan-axe mounted on the wall… It was a collection that wouldn’t have seemed out of place in a museum.

But she took one step into the office, making eye contact with the woman sitting at the head of the desk, and Anya was simultaneously lost and found in a single, breathless moment.

When she’d landed in New York, she had been consumed with a sense of complete rightness that had quieted the restlessness she’d carried with her for the past five years. 

Her chest thrummed with that feeling now amplified, as if things had finally fallen into their right place, as if at long last, she was finally where she was supposed to be. 

And then the moment passed and Anya was left to make her way to the desk, still shaken by the intensity of her emotions. There was no mistaking it: this was the woman she’d seen on the streets of London a week ago but why had she evoked such a visceral response?

“Ms. Sayeed,” Anya said with a smile, holding her hand out with a confidence she didn’t feel, “I wanted to thank you for giving me this opportunity to work for you. 

The woman stared at her offered hand and after a second during which Anya feared she had been too forward, she shook it.

“Ms. Altomare,” she spoke, her voice elegant and husky. 

“Please, call me Anya,” Anya quickly said, causing Kamilah’s eyes to flicker up to hers and then all Anya could see and hear was Kamilah, Kamilah, Kamilah. 

She snapped out of her brief reverie, dropping the woman’s hand and Anya tried to ignore how her heart clenched at the loss of their contact, the warm, velvety feel of her skin. She settled into the chair and tried to regain her composure, appreciating the vast window across her that let her feel the familiar warmth of the sun’s rays on her face.

It surely had only been a few seconds but it felt like an eternity before Kamilah finally broke the silence, each word spoken with precision.

“Anya, I am a private woman,” she said and Anya nodded (she hadn’t been able to find a single picture of the CEO online), “And my collection is of great personal value to me. I was very impressed by your resume and references but I want to be sure of your skills before I give you access to my collection.”

“Of course,” Anya said emphatically and she leaned forward with excitement as Kamilah displayed three artefacts on her desk: a jewel-encrusted scarab, a golden ankh, and a wooden horse.

“I’ve brought some items from my collection and I’d like to hear your ideas if you were to create an exhibit centred on these,” Kamilah said, her eyes focused intensely on Anya. 

But Anya was blind to the attention, overwhelmed with awe as she took in the sight of the precious items in front of her, her head moving around to see all of their angles. She was visibly bubbling with excitement as she restrained her hands from reaching out to touch them

“Oh wow. Ptolemaic Dynasty… and they’re all in such exquisite condition,” she breathed and then as if a switch had been turned off in her, Anya straightened in her seat, “Well, it depends on your purpose. What are you trying to convey, who is your target audience?”

“Let’s say it’s only for me. What would an exhibit catered solely to me look like?” 

Anya furrowed her brows in thought before answering. 

“Well, I would center the exhibit around this ankh. As the symbol of life and the natural force that interconnects all living things, it would serve as the centrepiece and multi-faceted theme of the exhibit. And the scarab would be one of the focal points of the exhibit. It’s beautiful, it’s opulent, it’s dripping in jewels. While it was used primarily as a fashion statement, it’s also a symbol of rebirth and I’d surround it with other such objects. Now, this horse would serve as the counterpoint to the scarab, not a symbol of rebirth but of life as it is in the moment, moments that become precious memories later on. It’s wooden, much simpler than the jewelled scarab, but it’s been extremely well preserved and it’s no less precious. This horse is filled with the joy of the children who played with it, their love, their happiness…” Anya’s eyes turned starry as she envisioned the exhibit, “The displays could be in rooms that are connected via intertwining hallways to embody the nature Ankh, and there could be warm-toned lights…”

“Of course, I just came up with this and if you were to give me more time and information, I’d be able to come up with a more well-developed plan,” Anya finished, trying not to be nervous at the strange look on Kamilah’s face.

“No, I liked it,” Kamilah reassured Anya but there remained something off about her, as if she was shaken and unable to recover.

“Yes, that’ll be fine. I’ll set up your access to my collection soon,” Kamilah dismissed her distractedly and Anya made her way to the door when Kamilah suddenly called out again.

“Anya?”

She turned around, trying to quell her uneasiness- surely she wouldn’t be fired. Not when she hadn’t even had a proper first day of work. But Kamilah only scanned over her with those intense, brown eyes of hers.

“Never mind.”

* * *

Anya closed the door behind her, letting out a sigh as if she was trying to expel all of her tension and anxiety. She hadn’t known what to expect from her first meeting with her new boss in New York but she certainly hadn’t expected the maelstrom of emotions that currently swirled inside her. 

Kamilah Sayeed…

She wanted to know so much more about her.

Still deep in thought, Anya continued on her way to the elevators when suddenly, she bumped into a solid wall of muscle. She stepped back, more alarmed than anything.

“Sorry-” “I- Laia?!”

“Excuse me?” Anya asked at the man’s exclamation. He was dressed professionally in a well-tailored suit but he stared at her with unabashed shock. He seemed to notice her growing discomfort when he shook his head and offered her a lopsided smile.

“I’m sorry. You reminded me of someone I knew,” he said and Anya smiled back at him.

“I get that a lot. I guess I just have one of those faces,” she joked and he laughed, even as he didn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Adrian Raines,” he offered his hand and Anya shook it.

“Anya Altomare.”

“Well, it was nice bumping into you Anya,” he said and Anya politely nodded before hurrying away into the elevator as he stared after her. 

* * *

Could she truly not be Laia?

Kamilah had watched the woman closely, had picked the three items specifically because of Laia’s connection to them. But there hadn’t been a single sign of recognition in Anya’s face, only a reverential awe at the old artefacts. 

And yet if she weren’t Laia, how could she have so keenly discerned the value of the items, their meanings to her? How could she have reached so deeply to Kamilah’s core?

Kamilah sighed deeply, rubbing her temples in frustration when Adrian burst into the room.

“Who is she?” he exclaimed but Kamilah merely gestured at him to sit across her. 

“I-she said her name was Anya but she looked and sounded exactly like Laia,” he said agitatedly, running a hand through his hair. 

“Did Laia somehow Turn?” Adrian asked before he finally seemed to see Kamilah’s face, see how she was only barely keeping herself together, “I’m sorry. I know this must be difficult for you.”

Kamilah pulled out a decanter of gin and two glasses, pouring him a generous amount of liquor and herself an even more generous amount. She took a slow sip of the liquid, half-wishing that vampires weren’t so immune to the effects of alcohol.

“She’s not a vampire,” she declared definitively and Adrian made to interrupt her when she continued, “I turned off the window shade so she sat with the sun directly on her for fifteen minutes. She wasn’t affected at all. Even Gaius would have shown some sign of irritation after that much direct exposure.” 

Adrian slumped down in his chair, “I just don’t understand. Is it possible that a random woman could look so much like her?”

Perhaps, if they had still been close like they’d been 50 years ago, Kamilah might have mentioned the empty casket, the doubts and suspicions and questions that incessantly plagued her mind. She might have mentioned how it was killing her to be so close to a woman who looked, talked, smelled like Laia, how her heart couldn’t help but hope against hope that the gods had somehow brought Laia back to her, how she couldn’t bear to entertain these thoughts because if she ended up not being Laia, she’d fall apart…

But they had grown distant from each other after her desperate ploy with Gaius and so Kamilah merely said, 

“I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was a bit of a slow chapter but there'll be revelations galore in the following chapters. I wrote a really short drabble that takes place during the 50 years after Laia's death. I really like it so I recommend you head on over and read it.
> 
> I ended up doing a lot of unnecessary research for the weapons in Kamilah’s office. If you’re interested: the khopesh was out of use by Kamilah’s time period but I don’t know what else the curved sword in her office could be. The fan axe has only been seen in hieroglyphics, and they’ve never unearthed an actual axe, but PB decided to put it in her office so whatever. And I wasn’t sure what the golden mask was so I just said it was a mask of Bast. For the exhibit, I had no idea what I was doing so I just rambled the best I could haha.
> 
> I’m saying Kamilah has high tech shade thingies on her window that she can control so they either block the sun or let the sun in. She turned it off for Anya, got distracted, had Anya turn around so she could confirm Anya wasn’t affected by the sun, and then turned it on so Adrian wouldn’t be affected when he came in.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dinner, a Feral, and a multitude of passport photos, Kamilah finally connects the dots behind Anya’s true identity.

“I’ll have the ribeye, rare,” Kamilah said smoothly as she handed him the menu she hadn’t bothered to open, “and bring us a bottle of the 1994 Châteauneuf du Pape.”

The waiter nodded and turned to Anya expectantly.

“I’ll have the same, thank you.”

When the waiter returned with the wine, Anya eagerly took a sip of it, glad to have something for her hands to do. A week had passed since she’d moved to New York and her days had been filled with the exhaustive task of cataloguing the CEO’s extensive collection of ancient artefacts; they were meticulously organised but mostly unlabeled.

But she hadn’t seen Kamilah since that very first day until she’d received an invitation for dinner via Gabriel earlier this day. Anya didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

“Enjoy the wine?” Kamilah asked with a hint of a smile and Anya blushed upon realising she’d drank the entire contents of her glass.

“I don’t really like wine but this is amazing,” Anya admitted, already feeling a bit flushed from the single glass of wine.

“I’m glad it’s to your taste,” Kamilah said as she poured more wine into her glass.

“So tell me about yourself,” There was something deliberately nonchalant and innocent about the question but this escaped Anya’s notice as she savoured the taste of the red wine, licking her lips in thought. 

“Mmm… I studied archaeology with a concentration in Egyptology at Cambridge but I didn’t feel quite ready to settle down or look for a job as a museum curator so I joined an archaeological dig in Egypt after I graduated. And now I’m here,” Anya finished plaintively, taking another generous sip from her glass. 

The steaks arrived at that moment and they fell into a pleasant silence as they began eating. Kamilah broke the silence after raising the glass to her own lips for what Anya realised was the first time.

“I was hoping to get to know you beyond what I’d read on your resume,” She said with a small smile before asking with an almost hesitant air of curiosity, “Was it hard moving to America?… Did you have to leave anyone behind?”

“No,” Anya admitted and she wasn’t quite sure if it was because of the strange familiarity she felt with Kamilah or the exorbitant amount of wine she’d drank, but she continued, “I don’t really date.”

“Oh?”

Anya quickly said, “Well, I mean I tried in college. My friends tried to set me up with someone once but… it just never felt right. She liked me more than I could like her.”

Kamilah stared at her with an intensity that made Anya flush deeply with an unknown emotion and Anya hurriedly broke their eye contact, “I do have a very close friend though. She was an immense help after my accident and I don’t know how I’d survive without her. Actually, I have to call her soon. I moved so suddenly that I wasn’t able to tell her and I’ve just been so busy lately.”

“Accident?” Kamilah asked, her eyes sharpening at the word.

“I was in a pretty bad car accident five years ago,” Anya answered with the patience of someone who had explained the story numerous times, “I don’t have any memories of the first 18 years of my life.”

She let out a small, bitter laugh and shook her head before repeating in a lighter tone, “I don’t know what I would have done without Sera…”

But Kamilah had stopped paying attention, her mind whirring furiously as she strove to make sense of this new information. Nothing seemed to fit. A 22-year-old with no memories of her past and the appearance of a woman who had died fifty years ago.

What was she missing?

* * *

Anya hadn’t meant to walk so far from the restaurant- she’d simply been waiting outside as Kamilah made a call before they walked back to the company building together.

But the streets of New York had called out to her, and she’d found her legs taking her on a path that she didn’t recognise and yet somehow felt familiar. The crisp air was a balm against her still flushed skin and Anya exhaled. It still didn’t feel real that she was in New York, living in her dream apartment and working her dream job. Not to mention the mystery and alluringness of her new boss.

There was a guttural growl and Anya snapped around just as a gaunt figure melted out of the shadows. It was a grotesque monster of a being with its mottled, pallid grey skin that barely seemed to cover its bony figure. Anya took a slow step back as it came even closer to her, and in their proximity, Anya saw the bright red of its eyes and its salivating, fang-filled mouth.

Panic consumed her throat and she felt the need to scream or run or do something before she was killed when suddenly a freezing calm washed over her. 

“You _dare_? Your blood is mine, your _soul_ is mine,” she hissed and she reached out her hand. 

The being froze in its tracks, and as her hand closed into a fist, she watched mercilessly as it fell to its knees. It let out a horrible, keening wail as its body began to contort around itself until finally, it crumbled away into ash. 

* * *

“Anya?” Kamilah said warily and Anya jerked out of her stupor at the feeling of the hand on her shoulder.

“Huh?” Anya asked, momentarily confused before she began to reassure the woman that she was fine, simply taking a break in the cool New York City air. 

But Kamilah’s frown didn’t go away.

Because for a split second, Anya’s eyes had been red.

* * *

_(3 days later)_

Kamilah stared at the three blown up ID photos Gabriel had spread on her desk.

They were all of Laia although her hair was different in each one: from long black tresses to deep crimson waves to straight platinum blonde locks. After allowing her a brief moment of silence, Gabriel continued.

“These are the passport photos of Eden Auclair, Celia Favre, and Amanda Klein. Eden Auclair was a French citizen from 2019-2034, Celia Favre was a Swiss citizen from 2034-2049, and Amanda Klein was a German citizen from 2049-2064. Each woman lived for approximately fifteen years before dying in their early 30’s… It seems that Anya Altomare is the newest reiteration.”

And Kamilah could deny it no longer. There was no doubt that these pictures were all of Laia. Which meant that Kamilah had seen correctly: she’d seen Anya’s eyes turn red that night at the restaurant. 

Which meant that Anya had been a vampire for the past 50 years.

Which meant that Anya was Laia.

But why did she show no recognition of Kamilah? Why did she continuously reinvent herself every fifteen years? What had happened to make Laia forget or at least pretend to forget all of her past memories? 

And then Kamilah froze. 

She’d dismissed the rest of Anya’s words as soon as she’d heard about her 18 years’ worth of missing memories. She’d thought Anya had been talking about a mere mortal friend.

But she’d been wrong. She’d focused on the wrong information.

Because Anya hadn’t been talking of a Sarah. She’d been talking of _Sera_.

Serafine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My bad. I keep forgetting to update ;;


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serafine reveals what happened 50 years ago.

_(49 years ago)_

It was a testament to Kamilah’s iron control over herself that she didn’t rip down Serafine’s door. Or perhaps the entirety of the wine cellar she’d emptied was affecting her more than she wanted to admit. 

But at last, fifteen minutes after her initial knocking, Serafine opened the door. She looked effortlessly put together as she always did but there was a strained air around her. 

“Kamilah, what brings you here?” Serafine asked overly brightly, her figure surreptitiously blocking the door, but Kamilah ignored this, pushing past her and sinking down into the couch.

“I can’t stop seeing her. Her smell is everywhere I go, I can’t escape it. She’s everywhere.”

Serafine fell silent at this admission, continuing to guiltily stand in front of the couch as if she was on trial.

Kamilah took a deep breath in and looked up at her, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

“I miss her. Our time together wasn’t enough, it wasn’t… Enough.”

She breathed out the last word with such pure, heartbreaking pain that Serafine finally broke, rushing over to comfort her on the sofa. 

“Oh ma cherie,” Serafine breathed into Kamilah’s hair, embracing the woman tightly as a few tears escaped her own closed eyes. Guilt seemed to drip from her voice but this escaped Kamilah’s notice, as she pulled back from the embrace. 

The tears were gone from her brown eyes but she stared into Serafine’s watery eyes with a penetrating sharpness.

And then Kamilah kissed her. 

There was a brief exclamation of surprise and only the briefest sensation of their lips touching before Serafine pushed her back. But Serafine’s skin was flushed, her breaths ragged, and Kamilah knew they were both thinking of their past night of passion.

“I’m not her Kamilah.”

The words hung in the air between them and Kamilah seemed to freeze. Because she knew Laia was gone. She’d never lay eyes upon that bright face again, never look at her disapprovingly when she decided to do something more brave than smart, never hear those gasps of pleasure, never…

Laia was gone.

And no one could ever replace her.

And then Kamilah was gone as fast as she had appeared, as if she’d never been in Serafine’s apartment.

* * *

_(present)_

Unlike the last time she’d been here, Kamilah didn’t bother to knock, ripping the door down with sheer strength. She stood in the centre of the living room, her fury growing with each second that passed until Serafine finally appeared.

“Oh Kamilah, you startled me,” Serafine said, her cutlass falling to her side. 

“What’s wro-” The shorter woman fell silent before stating, “You know.”

“Fifty years,” Kamilah said darkly, “Fifty years you let me believe she was dead. That I had Turned her too late.”

“I-”

“Tell me. Everything.”

Serafine sighed and took a seat.

“Laia came to me five days after her funeral…”

* * *

 _(50 years ago)_

Serafine opened the door to find a pale, dazed-looking Laia and before she knew what she was doing, her protective instincts kicked in, causing her to usher the girl into her home.

Although there were questions racing through her mind at the appearance of someone whose funeral she had attended only five days ago, Serafine restrained herself, waiting for Laia to speak first and Laia looked at her gratefully. 

Laia took a sip from the cup on the table without a thought as to what lay inside, and shakily exhaled before opening her mouth.

“I woke up in a coffin.”

Serafine looked at her with wide eyes and Laia closed her eyes, taking a moment to breathe before continuing.

“It was dark and I had no idea what had happened but I somehow dug my way out. I… I remembered Gaius stabbing me but when I looked down at myself, I didn’t even have a scar. I thought maybe I might have been Turned but my teeth were the same, I didn’t have fangs. I didn’t feel thirsty. I-I, I”

She found herself beginning to hyperventilate at the sheer insanity of her words but Serafine quickly calmed her down.

“And then I started seeing things. Memories, but these weren’t like what I saw before because I didn’t just see them. I lived through them.”

“What do you mean?” Serafine asked gently, her brows furrowing.

“I, I was a woman and I was being dragged away from a throne room. I remember feeling so desperate as if the gods themselves had turned against me but then it just angered me so much and I refused to simply lay down and accept my death.” 

“And then I was back in the throne room and I felt so powerful as if I had finally become who I was destined to be. I was bathed in the blood of so many men but it was like I was clean, I was pure, I was _divine…”_

“I was reliving Rheya’s life, wasn’t I.” 

And her last words weren’t a question, more a resigned statement as if Laia already knew the answer.

“What does it mean Serafine?” She asked desperately, her voice suddenly becoming hysteric, “I didn’t know what to do, you were the only one who I thought could help me.”

But Serafine could offer no words of wisdom, no words of comfort as she struggled to comprehend the meaning of Laia’s revelations. 

“I have to do some more research before I can tell you anything definitively,” Serafine said finally, “But you can stay with me as long as you need.”

Laia nodded thankfully, slumping back into the couch as the stress of the past five days caught up to her in one overwhelming wave of exhaustion. As Serafine made her way to leave and ready Laia’s room, Laia suddenly grabbed onto her hand. 

”How…. how is she?” Laia whispered the question that had plagued her since the moment she’d woken up, and the poignant worry in her eyes was almost painful to look at. 

Serafine paused but could only give her a sad smile before she left Laia alone. 

* * *

_(two days later)_

Laia sat on the couch, holding a steaming cup of coffee to her chest. The heat scalded her fingers but Laia anchored herself to that pain, that sign that she was still, truly alive. 

Serafine sat grimly next to her and at Laia’s look, she began to reveal the fruits of her research.

“There isn’t a lot we know about Bloodkeepers because there’s not a single lineage we can trace. We know that they’re always female and that Bloodkeepers are thought to hold the memories of the entire line of vampires because they’ve existed as long as vampires have. But that’s wrong. The first Bloodkeeper appeared shortly after the fall of the First.”

“Nothing is completely certain but you told me Rheya was stabbed by the very Tree that Turned her. and that was how she died” 

Laia nodded.

“I don’t think Rheya really died that night. When vampires die, we turn into ash because our bodies are finally confronted with the mortality we’ve spent our entire lives evading. Rheya didn’t turn into ash and I think instead, Rheya was absorbed into the tree so her essence, her _soul_ was kept intact. The First had unimaginable powers and somehow, her essence must have escaped the tree. I think the Bloodkeepers are a result of Rheya’s soul trying to find a capable host body so that she can rise again.”

Serafine paused to let Laia digest her words but pressed onward. 

“Bloodkeepers often go their entire lives without knowing what they are and that prevents Rheya from taking over them. It’s only when they get involved with vampires that they start seeing visions and I think that’s because Rheya slowly starts to awaken.”

“When Kamilah fed you her blood, that was the first time a Bloodkeeper was ever Turned. But instead of Turning you, her blood fed Rheya’s soul in you. She’s still far from the power she once had but her soul is slowly getting stronger in you. That you experienced those visions as Rheya is a sign of her returning strength and they’re only going to grow in intensity until she finally gets strong enough to take over you.” 

Serafine finished and Laia stared down into her empty mug. Somehow this information didn’t surprise her, as if she’d unconsciously known this truth the moment she’d woken up. 

“So what am I now?”

“As far as I can tell, you’re not a vampire. Rheya’s soul probably absorbed most, if not all of Kamilah’s blood. But because Rheya’s getting stronger in you, some of her powers will slowly bleed over into you. As the First, she was never affected by the sun, so you won’t have to worry about that but you’ll probably find yourself being stronger than usual and you might have a taste for rare steaks if anything.” 

“Am I immortal?” Laia finally asked, her voice steady and showing not a single sign of the raging emotions inside her. 

Serafine sighed, “Honestly?… I don’t know.”

Laia looked down to the mug that she was still clutching tightly in her hands; it was cool now and she desperately missed its burning heat.

“If I die, there’s nothing to stop Rheya’s essence from travelling into another woman’s body and making a new Bloodkeeper, right?”

Serafine nodded hesitantly.

“If I’m immortal, then wouldn’t Rheya’s essence be trapped in me?”

Serafine didn’t know where Laia was heading in her line of questioning but she could tell it wasn’t something she’d like. And yet she couldn’t deny the truth of Laia’s words.

“Yes.”

“If… If I didn’t have any of my memories, if I didn’t know who I was or what vampires were, would that stop Rheya’s awakening?”

At last, Serafine understood and it was with a growing look of pain that she answered.

“Yes.”

And Laia was grateful that Serafine didn’t say anything more, that she didn’t try to dissuade her, remind her of what she’d be giving up because her chest had already begun to ache in pain the moment she’d woken up. She knew what she had to do, she knew she’d be resigning herself to an eternity of perpetual longing that would never be fulfilled, and even the thought of it hurt more than anything she’d ever experienced. But there was nothing that could be done.

“Will you help me?” Laia asked and she knew that she was asking a lot from Serafine as well: to lie to her dearest friends and devote her life to the eternal cause of Laia’s safekeeping. Theirs was a lofty goal, to protect the world from the wrath of the First, but it didn’t make the cost hurt any less.

Serafine closed her eyes and nodded. 

* * *

_(present)_

“So I set up everything she needed to be a completely normal, unassuming woman. Birth certificates, passports, everything. I erased her memories and told her that she had been in a terrible car accident. She lived with me here in Paris for that first identity but then you visited me and I knew I couldn’t risk keeping her so close. I sent her off to college because that was the most normal thing someone of her age could do and then when people slowly started to get suspicious of how she didn’t seem to age, I staged her death and erased her memories so she could start anew.”

“It’s funny though. No matter how far I placed her, from Switzerland to Germany, no matter how much she traveled, from Egypt to Peru, she always wanted to go to New York.”

“She never stopped searching for you even when she didn’t know who she was.”

Kamilah sat still, frozen, as she struggled to wrap her head around the enormity of what they had planned. Laia…

“I tried to find another way but there wasn’t. I… I won’t say I’m sorry I did it, but I’m sorry for the pain it caused you,” Serafine said, maintaining the distance between them.

Kamilah laughed bitterly, the first sound she’d made since Serafine had started to speak, “Of course you aren’t.”

“How did you even find out?” Serafine turned wide-eyed, “No. Don’t tell me-”

“Laia’s in New York. She’s been working for me the past month,” Kamilah said emotionlessly, taking no pleasure in Serafine’s gasp.

The woman reeled in horror, shaking her head furiously “No, no. She can’t- have you noticed anything unusual about her?”

And Kamilah didn’t want to respond, didn’t want to tell Serafine a damn thing, but her silence was answer enough and Serafine grew faint.

“It’s too late then. If she’s in New York, it’s too late.”

Serafine suddenly regained her colour, staring at Kamilah with a steady calmness that made Kamilah want to break something. 

“Rheya’s not going to go dormant in Laia again. She’ll have gained too much strength to do that. Listen to me. Laia needs to die.” 

“No,” Kamilah immediately growled, jerking away from the shorter woman. 

“She has to die. Do you still have the stake?” Serafine asked, her eyes bright with a frantic fervour, “Even if Rheya’s gotten stronger than she has in millennia, she’s still nowhere near as powerful as she once was. Laia’s body is still fundamentally human. If we get her now with the stake, there’s a chance we can end Rheya for good.”

Kamilah thought of the stake laying safely in her bedroom, the stake that had been entrusted into her possession before her betrayal, and her hand tightened at her side. Serafine would have to kill her if she wanted it because there was no way Kamilah could agree to this far-fetched plan, to Laia’s…

“Kamilah,” Serafine raised her voice, her eyes locking onto Kamilah’s.

“It’s not a matter of if she dies now. It’s how she dies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was written before BB3's release and here's my explanation from when I had first written it.
> 
> "If it didn’t make sense, Bloodkeepers aren’t keepers of memories, they’re keepers of Rheya’s soul. Rheya’s soul finds a new woman every generation in order to try to take over her so she can rise again. Kamilah’s blood awakened Rheya’s soul in Laia and Laia/Serafine believed that the only way to stop Rheya from awakening was to have Laia not know anything about vampires (That Bloodkeepers only awaken when they interact with vampires is taken straight from Jamison’s notes). So every 15 years, Serafine erases her memories so Laia can live like a normal human, not knowing anything about Rheya or herself, which effectively forces Rheya’s soul to go dormant. 
> 
> (I somehow missed that Bloodkeepers were from the same lineage, just not always consecutively passed down. But that actually supports my storyline since that means Laia needs to be the last Bloodkeeper in order to keep Rheya dormant)
> 
> In that first scene when Kamilah visits Serafine, Serafine doesn’t open the door because Laia’s living with her and she needed time to hide her away."


	6. Chapter 6

Anya stepped hesitantly into the apartment, feeling as if she was an intruder.

Well, technically she was currently intruding in Kamilah’s apartment. 

She’d only noticed ten minutes ago that she had accidentally kept the amphora she’d been studying. It, much like most of what Kamilah owned was unlabeled and she’d spent the better half of the day consulting with former colleagues and professors in order to properly identify it so that she could then catalogue it with a description.

Kamilah had given her access to her personal collection a few weeks ago but Anya had never forgotten to put the artefacts she worked with back to their original locations. Until now. 

So here she was, feeling like a thief even as she sought to return the vase. There strangely hadn’t been any overt security systems in place and Anya had easily been able to enter the apartment. She wondered if Kamilah had preemptively added her to the system.

Her heart raced furiously not just because she was in her boss’s private lodgings but because she was holding a priceless artefact in her arms right now. The vase was in exquisite condition and Anya couldn’t stop herself from marvelling at each artefact she dealt with. 

Delicately placing the box with the amphora onto the floor, Anya took a glance around the living room. It was impeccably decorated with the same elegance that Kamilah so effortlessly carried and as expected, there was a multitude of ancient artefacts adorning the walls and shelves. If she had been in anyone else’s apartment, she would have doubted their authenticity but Anya knew with a deep certainty that these were all authentic. She supposed that was the perk of owning a major financial corporation.

Anya spotted a conspicuously empty space between two other jars on a shelf near the back of the room and with the tenderness of a mother, she placed the amphora back to its original place. Taking her gloves off, Anya let out a sigh of relief, allowing herself to revel in the pure history of the room. Amongst these ancient artefacts, Anya felt right at home.

She herself had no past that she could remember but here, here was an entire civilisation’s life history condensed into items that its people had once used. She never felt quite right in the world as the lonely, amnesiac orphan Anya Altomare, but it was comforting to lose herself in the grounded history of countless others. 

Suddenly, the slightly ajar door to the right caught her eye and even as Anya told herself that she needed to leave, she found herself walking in. 

With the large bed taking up the centre of the room, this was most assuredly Kamilah’s bedroom and Anya soaked it all in. It was spacious and filled with that lavender scent that always emanated from Kamilah. 

After the dinner that night, Anya hadn’t seen Kamilah and even though they’d only known each other for just under a month, she felt herself missing the woman’s presence. 

Her fingers trailed over shelves that seemed to be filled with an eclectic mix of books, imagining Kamilah doing the same, until she came to a stop. 

At the corner of the room lay a beautiful wooden chest and crouching to examine the paintings on its side, Anya realised with a gasp that this was a canopic chest. Its sides were adorned with understated and yet undoubtedly elegant depictions of the creator god Ptah, holding all three of his symbols: The _Was_ sceptre, the _Djed_ pillar, and _Ankh_. 

As if something had taken over her body, Anya felt her arm slowly move to lift the top of the chest, too fixated on its contents to care that she was touching an artefact with her bare hand. 

All that lay inside was a single ivory branch and yet Anya felt herself recoil with a visceral intensity, frantically scrambling away from it. 

In her frenzy, Anya’s back bumped against the bedside table and she heard the small thump of something falling onto the carpet. She panted, trying to regain control of her furiously racing heart and turned away from the strange chest and the abomination it held.

She focused on the culprit of the sound, picking up the fallen picture frame only to feel her heart stop. Trembling, her other hand rose to touch the picture as if to convince herself that it wasn’t an illusion.

Because in the photo were two women, one of whom was Kamilah.

She looked relaxed and happier than Anya had ever seen her, even as she frowned in faux exasperation at the woman by her side. Her eyes belied her disapproving frown, filled with such tender adoration that Anya could barely believe this was the guarded woman she’d worked for for the past month.

The other woman was clearly the taker of the photograph, her arm outstretched as she kissed Kamilah firmly on the cheek with closed eyes. Chestnut melted into honey blonde waves around her face and she wore a glittering, golden dress that looked more expensive than anything Anya had ever owned.

But there was no doubt that she was Anya.

* * *

Kamilah entered her apartment and even though the security system had alerted her to Laia’s presence, she felt her breath catch at the sight of the angry woman sitting on her bed. 

She’d suspected that Anya was Laia from the very beginning but she hadn’t allowed herself to hope, she hadn’t really allowed herself to even think it was possible. She’d been so determined to prove that she wasn’t her.

But now that she knew this was truly Laia, that Laia had been so near her this entire time, Kamilah felt unbidden tears pool in her eyes as she held herself back at the door.

“Are you okay?” Anya asked, concern overtaking her fury and she walked towards Kamilah, her hand instinctively raising to wipe away her tears only to pause uncomfortably in the air. 

Anya nearly wanted to laugh; the woman in the photograph had clearly been close with Kamilah and yet she couldn’t even do this. She pulled her arm back to her chest and with her fury rekindled, Anya stared unyieldingly at Kamilah.

“Why do you have a picture of us in your bedroom?”

Kamilah did not answer, her eyes still focused solely on Anya as if she were devouring the sight of her, and Anya began to pace.

“I mean, I lost my memory from the car crash so I don’t remember any of my life before I was eighteen. But I know I lived in England. How could we have ever met? How could we have known each other? I mean, I must have been in _high school_ , and you were however old you were. That’s _so_ messed up!” Anya rambled agitatedly, wringing her hands, “But even past that, if we did somehow know each other, why didn’t you say anything?! Why didn’t you tell me the moment we met?!” 

“Have you just been waiting for me to remember you? Well, I’m sorry to break it to you but I’ve spent the past five years trying to regain what I lost and I still don’t remember a single thing. If you’ve been waiting for the girl in the picture, she’s _gone_. She’s never coming back!” Anya shouted before her face contorted in pain, “God, do you even know me?”

Large flames flared out from the candles in the room before dying as abruptly as they had appeared and Kamilah stared at Anya achingly, feeling as if her heart was shattering all over again. 

“I’m sorry,” Kamilah whispered but it was at this moment that Serafine entered the room, having noticed the sudden burst of light.

“Sera?!” Anya exclaimed in disbelief and Serafine gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I know everything’s confusing right now but do you trust me?” She asked, slowly coming towards Anya with her hands outstretched.

And even though Anya felt like she was ready to explode from the sheer force of everything she was feeling, this was Sera, who had been there since the moment she’d woken up in that too white hospital room, who had comforted her whenever living simply seemed too much for her. 

Anya nodded and at this, Serafine raised her hands to Anya’s head.

A second passed and nothing seemed to have happened when the younger woman suddenly faltered forward. Kamilah rushed to catch her in her arms and Serafine [promptly disappeared from the room although her departure went unnoticed by the two women.

“Are you okay?” Kamilah asked huskily and her worry grew as the woman in her arms didn’t move.

But then…

“Kamilah?” she whispered and now Kamilah was the frozen one.

Laia looked up, tears spilling freely down her face as she raised a shaky hand to Kamilah’s cheek, “I never thought I’d see you again.” 

And Kamilah melted and she kissed Laia fiercely, passionately, desperately as if they were the only women who existed in the universe. Hot tears intermixed as they lost themselves in each other, their bodies moving together in motions that were at once familiar and yet new as they sought to reclaim each other in the purest of ways.

* * *

Their bodies remained intertwined even as the heat of their passion finally ebbed, and although Laia sleepily nestled into Kamilah’s chest, Kamilah had never felt more awake. Her eyes soaked in the sight of the woman, committing each precious little detail to memory, and even blinking was too long a time to not see her. She relished the solid weight in her arms, the undeniable proof that Laia was really, _truly_ here with her after fifty long years, and Kamilah knew that she would wait a hundred times over if it meant she could be with Laia again. 

This time together now was precious beyond what words could express and each second seemed to pass by too quickly. 

“What are we going to do now?” Laia whispered quietly. These words were almost enough to remind Kamilah of what was waiting for them outside of their precious space in time but Kamilah refused the beckoning call of reality; she needed to hold Laia for just a bit longer.

And truthfully, there was only one answer Kamilah could give her, only one thing she knew for certain. 

“Whatever it takes to keep you with me.”

* * *

Despite Kamilah’s best efforts, sleep came for her and she awoke in terror when she found herself alone in her bed. She frantically scanned the room, unable to accept the possibility that the last night had been but a dream. Relief washed over her when at last, she laid eyes upon Laia at the other side of the room. But then she saw what Laia held in her hands.

And Kamilah realised she had not known true fear until this moment. 

She leapt out of the bed, embracing Laia and taking away the stake in one smooth motion.

“I won’t let you die for a baseless theory,” she murmured fiercely, past the point of trying to hide her desperation. 

“She’s getting stronger in me Kamilah,” Laia said sadly, pulling back slightly from Kamilah’s embrace.

“Screw them all,” Kamilah hissed, “Let Rheya try to rise. I’m not giving up on you. I’d let thousands of people die before I gave up on you.” 

At this, Laia simply caressed her cheek.

“No, you wouldn’t.”

Although her voice was soft, the words pierced Kamilah to her core. How could Laia so unwaveringly believe in her? Kamilah had committed countless atrocities before, and none for a reason as good as this. Surely she could do worse if it meant Laia would stay alive…

But Laia was right. She was different from the woman she had been in the past, a woman who had been willing to sacrifice others for her own satisfaction. It was due to Laia, but she was fundamentally changed.

Kamilah’s voice broke, “I can’t lose you again. Not when I’ve only just found you.”

Laia smiled tearfully at her, “You’re the strongest woman I know.”

And Laia grabbed the stake, thrusting it into her chest. 

A primordial shriek split the air but Kamilah couldn’t seem to hear anything, couldn’t register what had happened. 

A single pained gasp escaped Laia and suddenly the world seemed to start again, everything happening too quickly. The ivory wood of the branch soaked into a deep crimson and matching streams of blood gurgled out of her mouth. 

And once more, Kamilah was holding the dying body of the woman she loved. 

She shook her head dumbly, tightly clutching Laia in her arms. She’d spent two thousand years on this Earth and yet when it mattered most, she was completely and utterly powerless. 

Laia let out a series of stuttered gasps, her mouth desperately trying to form words as her body went into shock, unable to make sense of the damage it had incurred.

“I, I wish I could have shared that life with you.”

_(“If we kill Gaius? If he’s finally out of my life, once and for all? I think… I’ll live. At last. I’ll finally, truly **live** …. And I’d like to share that life with you.”)_

And thinking of that bright future they had once envisioned, the beautiful, love-filled life they could have had… 

Kamilah wept over Laia’s cool body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The italicised quote is from BB2 chapter 15.
> 
> So I realised I never posted the last chapter on my AO3... I think I'd hoped I'd find some inspiration to spruce up the ending because when I initially wrote it, I lowkey ran out of steam even though that last scene was why I'd wanted to write the fic in the first place. Well... I didn't so here's the original ending.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr.
> 
> So I almost barfed while writing that brief scene with Gaius and Kamilah lmao.
> 
> If Gaius can canonically give MC time to shop for new clothes and fuck her LI one last time, Gaius can give MC and Kamilah one last moment in my story.
> 
> Kamilah thought the only way they’d get a chance at defeating Gaius was if he believed she was on his side again. So, without telling anyone, Kamilah joined Gaius’s side as a double agent. But she knew he’d still be wary of her which is why she went so far as to fight/kill the vampires on her side. Once Gaius trusted her, she was going to end him. But of course, Gaius trapped her with MC, and Kamilah blew her cover. Then she just went against him directly. 
> 
> Kamilah Turned MC but for reasons that will be revealed later, MC didn’t revive so now they all think MC is dead.


End file.
